


i will finally say (that i am not okay)

by greekphilosophress



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/F, F/M, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, JonSatin - Freeform, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Robb Stark, Ramsay Bolton is His Own Warning, Robb Stark is a Gift, Stark Family Shenanigans, Tags May Change, The Starklings, i love them all so much your honor, its very nice, sansaery, the direwolves are in this one, they all meet in the forbidden forest to hang out, throbb - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:42:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28129326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greekphilosophress/pseuds/greekphilosophress
Summary: (Title from I Talk in my Sleep by the Crane Wives, i promise this fic is NOT as sad as it looks, there's alot of fluff and found family shenanigans :)Hogwarts is full of people. Everyone going different places, doing things. And sometimes, they notice each other.Just an asoiaf harry potter au !!!
Relationships: Renly Baratheon/Loras Tyrell, Sansa Stark & Margaery Tyrell, Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Satin Flowers & Jon Snow, Satin Flowers/Jon Snow, Theon Greyjoy & Robb Stark, Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark
Comments: 26
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey! here is my tumblr - https://nostraightstarks.tumblr.com/ - if you like this fic, you'll like me on there too!
> 
> this might seem like just a sansaery fic, it's not. It will spend equal time on sansaery, throbb, jonsatin, and lorenly. also alot of cute family and found-family interactions !!!

Margaery was tired. After dinner, she wanted nothing more than to go back to her room and lie face down on the bed. It had been a very long day, with Professor Cersei (there were 3 Lannisters in employment at Hogwarts, and it was easier to call them by their first names) being especially unhinged in Charms. 

_ The woman’s a pyromaniac.  _ Margaery thought as she sped back towards the Slytherin common room, absentmindedly touching a few crispy, singed strands of hair with her free hand.  _ Seriously _ . 

“Hey Marge!” The voice came out of nowhere, but a second later Arya appeared at her left elbow. 

“Oh by the Seven! You terrified me, Arya!” The young Stark shrugged, a smirk touching the edges of her mouth. She was tiny, a third year, where Margaery was on her sixth. Arya was the only Stark in Slytherin, her brothers Robb and Jon, and her sister Sansa in Gryffindor, her other brother Bran in Ravenclaw. She was skinny, and short, and could spy like no-ones business. 

“Why do you smell like smoke? And why are you… charred?” 

Margaery rolled her eyes, ” _ Cersei _ .” Arya made a sound of disgust, cracking her knuckles. “Don’t worry. She’s on my list.” 

Arya Stark was a true enigma. She wanted to be an Auror when she was older like her father, and though she was only, like, 13, everyone knew she would be. She had this list, see, of people she wanted to put in Azkaban. It was no use telling her that you had to have an actual  _ reason _ other than ‘I don’t like them’ to lock someone up. If you tried, she’d look off into the distance, a dreamy look on her face, and say, “ _ I don’t know about that _ .” Freaky.

But Margaery liked her. Even though she was younger, she was a good friend, and kind of a badass. Also her family was great. And Sansa was….  _ attractive. _ But that was besides the point. 

As they breached the entrance into the common room, she immediately heard a loud laugh, and cringed. 

_ Oh no… _

Joffrey Baratheon was sitting on one of the low, lounging couches around the hearth with Ramsay Bolton looking on, a vaguely bemused, more resentful gaze on his cold features. Margaery huffed a sigh and moved on, Arya still at her side. The best thing with Joffrey was to get out of the line of sight as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, it was also the best way to get Ramsay to  _ notice _ you.

“Hey, Margaery! Where’re you going?” He was smiling too wide, and it didn’t reach his eyes. Nothing did, with Ramsay. “Ah.. you know....” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the girls quarters. Arya had kept walking and was already at the entrance. She had turned around by this point, staring at Margaery with an intense look on her face and gesturing for her to follow. 

Margaery made her way over to her, ignoring the way Ramsay’s eyes followed her. “ _ Creep. _ ” Arya muttered. “I can put him on my list for you.” Margaery patted the younger girl's shoulder. “It’s fine, Arya. What’re you up to anyway? Meeting Asha?”

Arya nodded. Most nights, Arya and Asha would both abscond into the Forbidden Forest, to meet up with their siblings and do… whatever. Margaery honestly didn’t know what they got up to out there, but they seemed to be in better spirits when they came back. She knew firsthand what it was like to grow up with someone, and then be split up by houses. Her brother Loras was in Gryffindor, along with most of Arya’s siblings, and Theon, Ashas’ brother, who was basically an honorary Stark at this point. 

She missed Loras with a fierceness. He was her best friend growing up, and even though she had other brothers, her and Loras were always very close. He was in the year above her, with Theon, Jon, Robb, and Renly, his best friend (besides her, of course). She had always suspected that maybe.... But no. Loras would tell her if… He would tell her.

Arya, who was walking away, paused, almost as if she could hear her. “Margaery, you wouldn’t want to come with me? Would you?” Margaery blinked, surprised. From what she understood, these meetings were almost intensely private, a secret she had only been made privy to because she had caught Asha sneaking out of their room. 

“Are you sure you would want me there? Or your siblings?” Arya bit her lip and nodded. “I told them about you, and Sansa says you sit next to her in a bunch of classes. Well that was true, they had a bunch of classes together, and since they were vaguely familiar with each other, they gravitated towards the other for seats or group projects. Despite that, Margaery didn’t know her all that well. And she certainly couldn’t say she really knew any of the Starks other than Sansa and Arya. 

But she liked people. And she liked Arya and she maybe sort of was crushing on Sansa, so she agreed. 

“Um… sure! I would love to meet your family! From what you tell me they’re great people.” Arya nodded, then grimaced, saying, “Well maybe except for Theon. He’s not great people. Robb says he’s good, but I don’t know.” 

Margaery was well aware of Theon Greyjoys’ reputation. After his father, a powerful dark sorcerer by the name of Balon Greyjoy, the ironborn Salt King, was busted by head Auror Eddard Stark, Theon was taken in as a ward back to Winterfell, the ancestral home of the Starks. Asha stayed behind to be looked after by her uncles, who were all found innocent, except for Euron Greyjoy, who had evaded capture. 

This upbringing had definitely left Theon with some issues. But from what she understood, he and Robb Stark were best friends. 

“Still, I would be delighted! Let me change out of my robes, though?” Arya gave her a thumbs-up and started in the direction of the third-year quarters. “Meet you here in thirty!” She called over her shoulder. 

Margaery turned on her heel and marched back to the room she and Asha shared (there was a drought of Slytherin girls when she was a first year, they had grown rather close over the years, with no-other immediate peers.)

She could do this. She was a Tyrell. She could do this.


	2. Chapter 2

Jon hunched his shoulders as he moved through the crisp night air, hair waving gently in front of his face. He passed Brienne’s hut on the outskirts of the grounds, walking into the coolness underneath the weirwood trees of the Forbidden Forest. The moon shone through the red leaves, leaving rose dapples of light on the dark ground. Jon found his way to their clearing on autopilot, he had long committed this path to memory.

When he finally broke into the meadow, brightly lit with witchlights floating all about, casting an orange glow onto the grass, he saw a few dark shapes moving around in the center. He made his way towards them quickly.

Robb, Theon, Sansa and Bran were already there, with Sansa having just conjured a blanket. Theon saw Jon approaching first, and lifted a hand in greeting.

“You’re late!” Then he turned to Robb. “Speaking of, where’s Arya and Asha? They should be here by now.” Bran shook his head, and pointed.

“There.”

But that wasn’t right. There were three shadows approaching, the tiny shape of Arya, the tall, lanky Asha, and… someone else.

“Who is that?” Robb asked. “Why is there someone else coming?” Theon flicked him on the shoulder. “Why do you think we would know?  _ Idiot _ .” Jon suppressed an eye roll. Theon was always trying to be mean to Robb, but it never worked. Jon often wondered why they were such close friends at all, considering Theon was actively on a mission to become the biggest screwup the wizarding world had ever seen.

He shook himself mentally. He shouldn’t be like that. He had seen firsthand what Theon’s childhood had been like, and he could relate to Greyjoy more than any of the Starks could hope to. 

By now, the figures had come into the lights floating closer to the blanket. A petite girl with long, curly brown hair and soft doe eyes was accompanying Arya and Asha, walking in between them. 

“Margaery? What are you doing here?” Sansa asked incredulously. Theon turned to her. “You know her, Sans?” That was another weird thing. Theon’s closest friend besides Robb was  _ Sansa _ . Jon could not even begin to _ try _ and comprehend it. 

“Hi! I’m Margaery! Uh… Hey Sansa.” The girl gave a small wave. Robb finally spoke, “Wait! You’re Loras’s sister, aren’t you?” She smiled and nodded. The faint recognition that Jon had felt made sense now. Jon, Theon, and Robb were all on Gryffindors’ quidditch team, as well as Loras Tyrell. Jon knew he had a sister, but hadn’t really paid any mind to it. 

“She’s a Slytherin, um. We have some classes together.” Sansa offered. 

Arya finally spoke up, “She’s cool and I think we should let her hang out with us. Plus, Asha knows her too.”

Asha nodded in acquiescence. “Marge is cool. I think we should let her stay.” And then she went to sit on the blanket. Theon blinked a few times, and then followed suit. Sometimes it felt like the only people Theon would listen to were Robb, Sansa, and his big sister. 

Jon looked back and forth from Arya to Margaery. 

_ ‘Does she know?’  _ He mouthed. She shook her head. By the gods, what had Arya been thinking? He loved the kid to death, but sometimes… Bringing a newcomer to their… ‘circle’ was a strange thing for her to do. She was by no means a people person. But then, Jon mused, wouldn’t that mean she was something special, to get Arya to bring her in?

He was snapped out of this line of thought when Sansa made a beeline for Margaery, speaking under her breath, but Jon couldn’t make out what she was saying. 

“Time’s wasting.” Bran remarked.

“Uh, yeah! Let’s get this show on the road then, I guess!” Robb said, taking out his wand. All of the Starks plus Jon did the same. Sansa, after a word to Margaery, took hers out a second later as well. 

“What’s happening?” Margaery asked, looking at Sansa. “You’ll see!” Answered Theon instead, lounging back against the ground. “Better grab some popcorn. You’re about to see some bon-a-fide cool shit.”

“Theon, hush!” That was Robb. Asha beckoned to Margaery, who sat down beside her. 

Jon held his wand with steady fingers. He felt the pull as soon as the other Starks lifted their wands, as he joined them it grew stronger. The ends of their wands started to glow, illuminating everyone's faces in a cold, wintery light. A solitary sound, like a warhorn, seemed to wind through the trees on the edges of the clearing, and then it was over. 

“What.” It wasn’t even a question. Margaery had turned to Asha. “What is going on he-” 

They heard it,then. One howl, joined by others, picking up the call. The wolves poured into the meadow, five in all. They stood stock-still when they had come to about a ten foot distance. Margaery’s breath caught, Jon could hear it from where he was standing. 

The pause was probably filled with suspense for the poor Tyrell girl, who maybe thought she was going to get eaten, but Jon waited with a smile. When an albino wolf lunged forward, he ran to meet it. Tackling him to the ground. 

Margaery, somewhere behind him, was screaming.

Ghost wriggled playfully and licked his face, rolling on top, standing with two paws on his chest. Jon smiled and ruffled the thick fur around his neck. “I missed you too, boy.” He looked over and saw Summer, apparently all face-licked out, sitting on Brans’ lap, where he had pulled himself out of his wheelchair onto the ground.

Greywind, who had been playing around with Robb, made his way over to Theon, who smiled and scratched the top of the wolf’s head. Sansa was kneeling with Lady, but turned and sat down next to Margaery. She was probably explaining to the poor girl what in the seven hells was going on. 

Ghost whined softly and Jon turned back to him, sitting down on the blanket and patting his lap. The wolf wasted no time settling down, and Jon slowly moved his hand over his ears. 

The pack of direwolves had been living in the Forest before the Starks had gotten to Hogwarts, but as soon as Robb and Jon (as well as Theon, but he didn’t have a wolf) arrived, they felt the pull. It was a hard thing to describe, the pull. It was like a brisk wind rising in your gut, telling you to go, run, go. After they finally surrendered, it led them to the waving weirwoods of the Forbidden Forest. 

The wolves had found them, six little wolf pups, appearing out of the shadows in between the trees. Only two stayed for more than a moment, Ghost and Greywind. And every time a new Stark entered the school, one more wolf would stay. They were growing, too, Ghost now came up higher than Jon’s waist. The last wolf in the pack, a black thing with green eyes, the rest assumed was for Rickon. His first year at Hogwarts would be next year.

“These can’t be direwolves!” exclaimed Margaery. “Direwolves can’t live this far south! Also what? How? Why?” She buried her face in her hands. Asha patted her shoulder in a consoling gesture.

“It’s right strange, but I got used to it. Me and Theon don’t have wolves, so far as we can tell it’s something to do with them being born and raised in Winterfell.” 

“You don’t have to stay if you’re scared, I can walk you back to the castle.” Offered Arya from where she was sitting on Nymeria’s back.

“I’m… no. I’ll be fine! This is… weird, but amazing! I mean, look!” She pointed to Lady. “That’s a direwolf! That’s a direwolf and I’m petting a direwolf and oh my gods I’m petting a direwolf!” She let herself laugh. “This is insane!”

“Of course,” said Theon, “You can’t tell anyone.” She shook her head. “I’m not going to.” He nodded. “Good. Cause then I’d have to kill you and all. Big hassle.” Margary threw her head back and laughed again, big and loud. “I’d like to see you try! I’ve seen you hit your own teammates with a bludger! You’d probably miss me!” 

  
Asha grinned and socked Theon on the arm. “Told you _ idiots _ you’d like her!” Jon couldn’t help but agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so i promise this fic is not Margaery-centered, but i needed to assimilate her into the group. next pov will be theon, so we can get started on the throbb! i won't be posting until next week, however. thank you for supporting my fic! im going to try to get these chapters out as quickly as i can, but i also have a bunch of prompts waiting for me on tumblr.  
> love yall!! -rowan


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one was so short, I'm tired lmao

Theon looked out over the Great Hall, a sea of faces swimming before him. Margaery, Asha, and Arya at the Slytherin table, sitting as far as possible from Ramsay and Joffrey, who were pretending to chat amiably. Could Ramsay Bolton do  _ anything _ amiably? He didn’t know. Theon looked down at his plate, decided he wasn’t hungry, and cast his gaze out over the crowd again, instead.

Bran and Jojen over at Ravenclaw were deep in discussion about...something intense, by the look of it. Missandei near them had turned around in her seat to converse with Danaerys, Irri and Jhiqui who were seated in Hufflepuff. Down the table from him were Loras and Renly, who were probably talking about the Quidditch match set to take place the next day. Jon was closer; reading with one hand, eating with the other, while Pyp and Grenn shouted over him, seemingly taking no notice of their  _ very _ loud conversation.

Sansa and Jeyne Poole were studying over the same book, heads bent together. He saw how she kept glancing up at Margaery, then ducking her head back down whenever she thought the Tyrell girl might be watching her back, blushing all the while.

_ Oh.  _ Oh _. Does she... ?  _ Theon would have to talk to Margaery, suss it out a little, make sure she wouldn’t break Sansa’s heart. Although, he didn’t get that sort of feeling about her at all. Despite her teasing last night, he couldn’t help but approve. 

_ As for Sansa? I would never have guessed that she… well.  _ Theon didn’t want to expand on the rest of that thought, the thought that ended with ‘ _ was like me’ _ . He was not ready for that brand of honesty, at the moment.  _ Not today. Nope. Maybe never. Who can say? _

One boy sat at the far end of the Gryffindor table, his curly black hair hiding his face and falling in ringlets onto his neck. He just realized he had no idea who he was, when Robb elbowed him in the side and brought him back into the moment.

“Are you done with quiet contemplation and inner monologue? I’m  _ bored _ .” Theon rolled his eyes fondly. “I don’t monologue! I… have brief moments of introspection and… soliloquy! They’re different, you know.”

“No, I’m  _ pretty _ sure those are all synonyms. Also, I'm impressed that you know all those words. You’re getting all fancy on me, Greyjoy.” 

Theon elected to ignore the jibe and said instead, ”Do you know who that is?” He gestured towards the lone boy he had noticed earlier. Robb obliged, “Sure. His name is Satin, he’s our year… um, we have Runes together, he seems nice enough I guess. Why?” 

Theon shrugged. “Dunno. Never noticed him before. I just like knowing who people are.” Robb poked at his egg yolk with a fork, making it bleed yellow all over his bacon. “So how do you feel about Margaery? Think she’ll be invited again tomorrow night?” Theon shrugged again. “Dunno. She seems like a good enough person, I guess. I trust Asha’s judgment... for the most part.”

“Oh don’t be all salty, Theon. You’re just sore about her teasing you back.” Theon stared at Robb with a deadpan look. “Was that a joke about me being Ironborn?” Robb grinned, “Clever, right? I’ve been waiting to use it for like a month.” Theon tried to smother his smile. “C’mon Stark, we’re gonna be late to Divination.”

“Ugh, don’t  _ remind  _ me. Professor Melisandre is a total fanatic! You would think that they wouldn’t get a R’hollor cultist teaching a class to a bunch of impressionable minds, but what do  _ I  _ know?” He picked up his bag and tapped Jon on the shoulder, who stood up, folding his book under his arm and waving goodbye to Pyp and Grenn. They made their way over to the stairway leading to the Divination tower together, joining the throng of students climbing the ladder that fed into the room.

When they finally breached the trap door, the choking smoke that filled the room trickled down Theon’s throat and made breathing difficult.  _ That’s pleasant. _ He, Robb and Jon claimed one of the larger tables, trying to make themselves as unobtrusive as possible. Melisandre had cornered Daenerys, and was trying to convince her that she was ‘ _ Azor Ahai reborn _ ’, which happened to a different person every year. 

Theon never forgot the look on her face when she learned that his uncle was the infamous Euron drowned-god-worshipping-dark-magic-practicing-swashbuckling-pirate-fugitive Greyjoy. She never tried that whole shtick on him, at least. His family was ‘corrupted beyond repair’.  _ Oh the indignity! _

“Someone should go save her.” Robb muttered. 

Melisandre turned away from Dany abruptly and crossed the room to stand at the front of the tables assembled before her.

“Today we’re asking our gracious Lord to give us a glimpse of the future in His flames. There is a miniature brazier on each table, please light them now. You may use your wands.” Theon took out his and deftly lit the small fire, murmuring the spell softly as he did so.

“You may all look at once, it should not affect the results. Please write down anything you see, it will be taken for a grade.” Then, a fervent cry of, ”Our Lord is most generous! Praise the Lord of Light!  _ Praise _ !” 

This behavior was commonplace for Professor Melisandre, so the students began to work through her background of passionate fanaticism. Theon resigned himself to a boring hour of looking into fire and probably damaging his eyesight. Jon seemed to come to the same conclusion he had.

It was maybe twenty minutes later when Robb began to shake. It was less of a pronounced shaking and more of a tremble, a slight tremor under the skin. Theon broke his ‘concentration’ to look over at him, concerned. Robb was staring deep into the brazier, the orange glow reflecting in his irises, his chest moving with shallow breaths.

Theon reached over and poked Jon, who started and glared at him. Theon shook his head and pointed at Robb, who was seemingly completely unaware of his surroundings, still in that trance-like state. Jon shook Robb gently by the shoulder, and when he was still unresponsive, went to fetch Melisandre after a shared bewildered look with Theon. 

The red woman appeared beside their table very quickly, bending down and looking into Robb’s eyes.

“What’s wrong with him? What’s going on?” Theon demanded. By now, the rest of the room had taken notice of what was happening. They slowly began to gather around their little circle. 

“Nothing’s  _ wrong _ with him, ignorant child. The Lord of Light in his infinite greatness is granting him a vision!” Theon’s forehead broke out in a cold sweat, despite the oppressive heat of the small tower classroom. He did not trust Melisandre’s god, he did not trust  _ Melisandre _ , and he did not want R’hollor in his infinite cultiness anywhere near Robb. 

It was maybe ten more anxious minutes of nervous waiting on Theon’s (and Jon’s) behalf before Robb slumped down, like a string had been tied to his spine, and the slack had been let go. His eyes fluttered back to awareness, and the class breathed a sigh of relief. 

His gaze landed first on Jon, then shifted to Theon. He went completely still and sat ramrod straight, cheeks blazing like there was no tomorrow, but he couldn’t seem to look away from Theon’s face. “Robb, are you-”

“Quick, write what you saw down! Write it down! Don’t waste the gift!” Melisandre cut him off to urge aggressively, sliding parchment and a quill in front of where Robb was seated. Robb made a small choking noise and stood up abruptly, turned around, and fled from the room. Before he reached the door, he turned, caught Theon’s eye one last time, and Theon saw something in that look. Something he knew.

_ Realization. _


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i loved writing this one dunno if u can tell

Sansa Stark was used to people coming to her with their problems. She liked it, too. She liked feeling useful, and helping others. But at the moment, she did not have the emotional stamina to deal with Robb’s bullshit.

“Robb, if you want me to tell you what to do, you have to tell me what  _ happened _ .” The Gryffindor common room was empty except for them, lucky for Robb, who had seen her reading by the fire, and pulled the book out of her hand so he could frantic-shout at her.

To be fair, she wasn’t really reading. She was thinking about Margaery Tyrell. Which was maybe the reason her patience was running thin.

“Sans, I need you to trust me when I say that I can’t tell you that. You probably would maybe hate me. Probably. Maybe.” 

She stood up, crossed the room, and put her hands on his shoulders. “Robb, you’re my brother, and I love you, and I can’t promise that I won’t be upset with  _ whatever _ it is that’s happening. But I  _ can _ promise to help you. So can you  _ please  _ tell me what’s wrong?” Robb averted his gaze and studied the whorls of the carpet instead.

“I’m… I can’t tell you the whole thing, but maybe… let’s say, theoretically, that I found out something that may…  _ change _ one of my friendships. And I don’t want to hurt them, or ruin our current relationship, but now I’m questioning, like - my whole sense of self and I don’t know what to do! Like, I can’t  _ do _ that to him! It’s not fair! And  _ I’m _ not… I just can’t!”

Sansa, who had noticed the slipup near the end, did the nice thing and didn’t mention it. She instead asked, “Is this…  _ theoretical  _ change something you want?” Robb raked a hand through his auburn curls, and resumed his frenzied pacing. “That’s the thing! I don’t know!  _ Sansa! _ ”

“I’m  _ trying _ , here. You haven’t given me a whole lot to work with, Robb.” He sat down heavily, head in his hands. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m just sort of… panicking here. And then there’s the game tomorrow and I have to  _ play _ with him and-” His shoulders rose, tense. “ _ Shit _ . Please forget that.” Sansa, who was already mentally sorting through all of the boys on the quidditch team, smiled innocently and said, “Forget what?”

He groaned.

“Robb, you should probably get some sleep. All of this stress on a tired mind makes it way worse.” He grumbled in frustrated acquiescement, stood, and turned to leave. But before walking up the stairs, he went to Sansa and hugged her.

“It’ll be ok, Robb.” His lips turned up in a wobbly smile. “Thanks, Sans.” She waved him in the direction of the boys’ quarters. “Now go  _ sleep _ !” He disappeared behind the stone wall of the staircase.

Sighing, with a last glance towards the stairs, she turned back to her book.  _ Maybe I can actually read it this time. _

That was when the entrance burst inward and Theon Greyjoy stumbled through. Sansa spun around, startled.

“ _ Is Robb in here _ ?” He asked Sansa, almost frantically. She shook her head in bewilderment. He slumped down in relief, throwing himself down on a couch. “He just went up to bed. Why? Are you ok?” Theon passed a hand over his face, sinking down lower on the cushions, “Something’s up with him, Sans. Did he tell you what happened today in Divination?” She shrugged and replied, “He was panicking about something, wouldn’t tell me what.”

He rolled his eyes. “Of  _ course _ .” She switched places, moving to sit next to Theon, holding on to his arm in a way she hoped was comforting.

“Thee, what happened? Are you fighting?” He threw his hands up. “I don’t know, because he won’t  _ tell _ me! We were in Divination, and you  _ know _ how that class is, and we were staring into these fires, right? And he starts to go all pale and shaky, and it’s like he’s in a trance or some freaky shit like that. But then, when he snaps out of it, he looks at me and freaks out, runs away and has been avoiding me for the rest of the day. He sat next to  _ Alys Karstark  _ at dinner! Has he ever even talked to her?”

She sat back, trying to fit it together. She had read enough textbooks to know what having a prophetic vision looked like, and that was exactly what Theon was describing had happened to Robb. And getting Robb’s (admittedly very vague) story to match up with Theon’s, she could guess that the vision Robb had was about or involved Theon.

“Wait. Theon, did you say he ran away after looking at you?” Theon nodded furiously. “Yeah! Like, what absolute horseshit! And then he looks back at me and he has this  _ looook _ in his eyes, like he was realizing something, but then he won’t talk to me? What the fuck? Like seriously!” She held up a hand to shut him up for a second. He batted it away.

“What are you-” 

Sansa stood up abruptly, taking up Robb’s previous pacing route. “Oh shit. Oh  _ shit! _ ” Theon looked up at her. “Sansa, what’s-” She shook her head, eyes distant. “That makes so much… _ THEON!”  _

He jumped, holding his hands out as if to shield himself. 

“ _ What? _ ” 

She looked at him.  _ How could I have been so _ stupid?. 

“I’m… I’m... you know what? I’m going to bed. Just - just go get some rest for the game, please. And tomorrow night, in the woods, we are going to  _ talk _ about this. I just… I can’t do this right now.” Theon still had that incredulous look in his eyes. “Talk about  _ what _ ? Sansa, you’re one of my closest friends and I love you, but what the fuck? You’re not making any sense!” 

“Just… go to sleep, Thee. We can talk tomorrow.” She was up the stairs before he could respond. She would  _ like _ to go scream into her pillow, but Meera, Alys, and Jeyne were already asleep and she didn’t want to wake them. She took down her hair and crawled into bed, the covers encasing her like a cocoon. She wished she could just pause everything.

The weird things Margaery Tyrell made her feel, the fact that Theon and Robb totally were in serious denial, the way Joffrey Baratheon had been looking at her recently, like he wanted to  _ consume _ her, the way she had seen Ramsay Bolton looking at.. well, _ all _ of them. She wished she could just take a break.

She slept then, her last thoughts trailing off into the wavy lines of dreams. She could have sworn she smelled Margaery in her sleep, like roses and tangerines. Her smile was a half-moon curve. Theon was fighting a shadow, his hands bloody and half sunken into the amorphous darkness. Greywind snarled, but then Margaery looked at her again with that mischievous grace and she slept and dreamed and slept and dreamed.

\----------------------------------------------

The morning of the game dawned sunny, clear and cold, which, according to her brothers (and Theon, who she might as well call her brother anyway) were not ideal conditions for a game of Quidditch. She knew this, because both Jon and Theon complained about it very loudly for a very long duration of time during breakfast. 

Robb was absent, and a quick look around the Gryffindor table showed that he was eating with Renly and Loras. Theon kept glancing furtively at him and Sansa in turn, obviously bewildered. She wanted to tell him that he obviously was in love with her brother, but felt like that wasn’t fair to either of them. Who was she to deny them more oblivious fumbling?

“It couldn’t be overcast for  _ once _ ? Would it be that hard to give us some clouds? It’s not that hard!” Jon asserted, spearing a link of sausage on his fork. “Oh, do you want to try to make some clouds, Snow? Let’s see you make some clouds.  _ Precipitate that shit _ .” Theon snarked back.

They continued bickering as Jeyne beside her tittered nervously. “Who do you think will win today?” 

Sansa considered.

“I don’t know. Joffrey’s a piss poor seeker, but he’s still won games for Slytherin before. Ramsay is the one to look out for, I think. Well, that and Arya, but she would never hurt anyone on purpose. Somehow I get the feeling that Bolton doesn’t have such reservations. Having a beater that… cold spells trouble.”

“Better not let  _ him _ hear that.” Jeyne shuddered. “He’s a creep.” Sansa nodded absentmindedly, tuning back into the boys’ conversation. In the time she had been talking to Jeyne, Meera Reed had joined in.

“Well I trust Dacey to do her job, and if she keeps the bludgers away I can move a quaffle. But  _ you _ -” here she pointed to Theon,”- need to make an effort.” He made an exaggerated offended expression, clutching imaginary pearls. “How  _ rude! _ ” 

Jon grinned. “Yeah,  _ Thee _ , make an effort!” Theon narrowed his eyes in a glare across the table. In his mind, Sansa was the only one allowed to call him that. Jon knew this, and used it against him at every opportunity. Sansa knew they were just teasing him, Theon was a damn good keeper, probably the best in the school, compared to Tommen Baratheon, Viserys Targaryen, and Jojen Reed.

Quidditch games were always highly entertaining, mostly due to members of the same family being on opposing teams, like Theon and Asha, Daenerys and Viserys, and Meera and Jojen, just for some examples. This factor usually drove these players to a higher level of competitiveness, which then led to a more enjoyable game for spectators.

Gryffindor vs. Slytherin games were especially high-energy, given the rivalry between houses. The Starks and Theon both had a sibling on the Slytherin team, so they didn’t feed into it like most of their peers, but it was still fun to participate in the surge of house-pride that arose every game.

Robb looked sort of left out, sitting all the way down the table. Loras and Renly were having their own conversation. Sansa knew that they were both very nice people, she used to be a little obsessed with Loras, now that she thought about it, and Robb was friends with both of them, but the table sounded too quiet without his, Theon and Jon’s rapport.

When breakfast was almost over, the team headed out to the pitch to get ready and warm up. Sansa hugged Theon for good luck, and managed to catch Robb before he left. 

“Hey, Sansa.” She smiled, and patted his head. Ever since she was thirteen, she had been ever so slightly taller than him, and she never let him forget it. He laughed and swatted her hand away from his curls, giving her a hug instead. “Good luck, Robb. I didn’t get the chance to talk to Jon, pass along my well-wishes?” After he agreed, Robb followed the team out of the Great Hall. She couldn’t help but notice he stayed as far away from Theon as possible. 

_ Boys.  _

_ Ridiculous. _


	5. Chapter 5

“Leading the Gryffindor team onto the pitch is team captain and seeker Robb Stark, followed by beaters Dacey Mormont and Grenn… uh… Grenn! Joining them are chasers Jon Snow, Loras Tyrell and Meera Reed! Coming up behind them is keeper Theon Greyjoy!” Samwell Tarly’s voice echoed in Margaery’s ears. He was a good announcer, she thought, though maybe a little biased against Slytherins. She liked him well enough, though.

She was sitting on the very edge of the Slytherin section of the bleachers, where the silver and green bled into the red and gold. Quidditch games for her were always a conflict of interest of sorts, with her brother on the opposing team. She still found herself cheering for him, which earned her some dirty looks from her fellow Slytherins.

“And Slytherins’ team is coming on now, led by captain and chaser Asha Greyjoy, next to beater Qarl L’maid, with seeker Joffrey Baratheon and beater Ramsay Bolton following, shored up by fellow chasers Tristifer Botley and Arya Stark, and keeper Viserys Targaryen!” Maragery craned her neck over the crowds, trying to catch a glimpse of her friends.

“Hey, um… can I sit here?” Margaery turned her head and saw Sansa Stark standing next to her. She kept very carefully to the Gryffindor side, but seeing how packed the pitch was, had to exist a little over the metaphorical line. Maragery nodded, maybe a little too enthusiastically, and patted the space on the bleachers beside her. Sansa sighed in relief and joined her.

“I’m really sorry, it’s just that right before we were supposed to leave to come out, Jeyne started throwing up and I _ hate _ being alone in a crowd and I hate to bother you but-” Maragery put a gentle hand on her arm. “Sansa, it’s  _ alright _ ! Anyone else I would want to sit with is playing.” Sansa smiled gratefully.

“And it looks like… Asha and Robb are shaking hands, and then… yes, the game begins in three, two, one, and _ they’re in the air! _ ” Sam announced. Both teams shot up, Theon and Viserys both flying back to their goals. 

Sansa was worrying at her lip, Margaery could see, her liquid grey eyes on the sky. Meera had gained possession of the quaffle, and was moving it quickly towards the Slytherin goal. Asha intercepted it however, and passed it down to Tris, who made his way over to the opposite post.

Looking up, Margaery saw Joffrey move, his broom a blur. She touched Sansa on the shoulder lightly. “Look!” 

Robb had pulled up, turning in a downward dive, quicker than thought. Joffrey was following him. “It looks like Robb has seen something! And - There it is! The snitch! It’s a close race, but - OH! It looks like they’ve… well, they’ve bumped into each other! And…  _ Neither of them have it _ !” Sansa had her hands clasped in front of her, her nerves clear on her face.

Loras had gained the quaffle in the commotion, and scored past Viserys. But then Sansa let out a soft, “ _ Oh! _ ” 

Margaery followed her gaze and saw a bludger heading straight for Arya, who had been flying on the fringes of the field for a while, looking for an in to steal the quaffle. She didn’t seem to notice the heavy ball heading straight for her. Margaery felt her stomach drop. She really liked Arya, and someone as tiny as her could get seriously hurt by a bludger.

Closer by, she saw Ramsay hovering. He would help her, she knew. He was a beater, it was his job. _ It was his job _ . 

“Sansa, Ramsay will get it. She’ll be ok!” Margaery told Sansa, who’s breathing had become noticeably louder. Arya had drifted closer to the Gryffindor goalpost by now, But Ramsay… wasn’t moving. “He’s not helping. Margaery, why isn’t he helping? They’re on the same team,  _ why isn’t he helping _ ?” Sansa was frantic, and grabbed onto Margaery’s arm, stricken.

Arya was still searching the field with her eyes, and not seeing an opening, continued closer to the goal. The bludger was maybe ten seconds from smashing into her, when she turned her head sharply. Theon, who was presiding over the goal, had his hands cupped over his mouth, and seemed to be shouting, throwing his whole body into it.

Arya whirled her broom around, and seeing the bludger heading straight for her face, dove down. It lifted her hair, but didn’t touch her. Sansa breathed out a monumental sigh of relief, but Margaery couldn’t. Ramsay  _ motherfucking _ Bolton was sitting back on his broom, as casual as can be.

She didn’t cheer when Qarl scored, or boo when Jon managed to get past Viserys twice in a row. She didn’t groan in disappointment when Robb caught the snitch. It was only when Sansa put a gentle hand on her arm that she remembered herself. “Margaery, I need you to promise me that you won’t do anything to Ramsay Bolton.”

Margaery looked back at her, shocked. “Sansa, with all due respect, I’m  _ going  _ to murder him. Why on Earth would I not-”

Sansa had both hands on her shoulders, and looked her deep in the eye. “Because we are going to meet in the woods tonight, and we are going to - together - find a way to hurt him. Very badly. And you’re going to be there.” Margaery nodded, but the only thing she could think to say... 

“Bloodlust looks very good on you, Sansa Stark.” 

Sansa flushed lightly, but held her gaze. “Come on, we’re going down to the pitch.” The surging crowd meant that Margaery had an excuse to pull Sansa’s hand into her own, as a means to keep them together. Sansa had looked down at it, then back up at Margaery, Then very pointedly forward, but Margaery didn’t miss the way that she squeezed a little tighter.

When they finally managed to get onto the grass, Sansa ran to her siblings, who were all in one huddle. Margaery, feeling rather alone, looked around, not seeing her brother anywhere.

“Marge! Hey!” 

Renly Barartheon materialized next to her, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Hey, Ren. You haven’t seen Loras, have you?” He shook his head. Margaery and Renly used to date, like two years ago, but had broken up on good terms. They quickly mended their relationship and became best friends. She, Loras, and Renly had formed a great trio, hanging out whenever they could.

“Congratulations on the Gryffindor win, by the way.” He grinned, “Yeah, you jealous?” She didn’t respond, instead going ahead with, “Did you see what Ramsay pulled?” His expression sobered instantly. “Yeah. Motherfucker.” 

“My thoughts exactly.” 

“Ren! Margaery!” Loras finally found them, face sweaty and smudged. “Did you see what happened?” They nodded. “Someone should give Theon a medal or something.” He said. “The whole Slytherin team has been coming up and thanking him. Well, except for Joffrey and Ramsay, of course. And I haven’t seen Viserys anywhere, either… huh.”

Margaery looked over to where the Starks were, and saw that Asha, Tris and Qarl had joined the group. “I can’t believe it. Like, I knew that Ramsay was an asshole, but wow.” Loras, turned on her swiftly. 

“Margaery, you need to stay away from him. He’s a psychopath, I don’t like you being close to him.” She rolled her eyes, “Loras, I’m not close with him. We’re in the same house. He’s a year above me. I don’t interact with him often, I promise. Nothing bad will happen to me.” He looked entirely unconvinced. Renly looked like he agreed with her brother.

They always agreed with each other. Margaery, who was very good with people, had seen the way they looked at one another. She was maybe a tad pissed, which she knew wasn’t fair of her, but she could’ve used her older brother when she was having her sexuality crisis as a preteen. She had noticed years ago that he and Renly were definitely in serious _ like  _ with each other, even if she was a little miffed, she could recognize they’d be good for one another. 

_ They would make a cute couple _ , she mused,  _ if they would get their heads out of their collective asses.  _

Of course, knowing them, they would stumble around for as long as possible. Renly and Loras kept talking while she tuned them out and looked across the pitch to Sansa. 

Theon had a friendly arm around her shoulders as he carried on a conversation with Asha, who looked intensely angry, presumably at Ramsay’s little stunt. Sansa’s gorgeous hair cascaded down her back in auburn waves, her wide eyes on Asha as she talked.

  
Margaery couldn’t help the swell of emotion in her throat as she looked at Sansa with her family. She wanted to be a part of that. She wanted to be a part of Sansa. She wanted Sansa. She  _ wanted _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so just to clarify, theon and sansa are NOT ROMANTICALLY INVOLVED IN ANY WAY. i feel like this fandom is rlly good at seeing close friendships and going 'ohh! they like each other'. in this fic, theon and sansa are just very good friends, its more of a sibing relationship, promise. anyway, i hope you liked it! hopefully ill have the next one out soon! If u have any questions, please ask!


	6. Chapter 6

Theon made the trip down to the Forbidden Forest with Jon. It was a little strange, seeing as they usually had Robb as a buffer between them, but Robb was still avoiding him. Sansa, of course, had told him nothing as of yet. 

Honestly, though, he wasn’t thinking about Robb. His mind was still repeating this morning, seeing the harsh lines of Ramsays’ face from across the field, the dark smudges of his unfeeling eyes scraping over his skin, leaving Theon feeling raw and exposed. He would have just let Arya get hurt.  _ His own teammate _ . 

“You’re not being an unrepentant asshole, Greyjoy.” Jon looked over at him. 

“ _ Astute _ observation, Snow. What will you notice next? The grass is green?” They trudged forward, breaching the line of trees. “I mean… Thank you for doing what you did for Arya.” Theon tried to stop his surprise from showing on his face, hoping the dark would protect him. “Anyone would do the same. I’m sure if you were close enough you would have warned her too.”

Jon scowled. “But  _ you _ did. So that’s why I’m  _ thanking _ you. Don’t get all pissy, I’m trying to be decent here.” They continued in uncomfortable silence until the clearing appeared in a haze of warm light and soft breeze.

Someone waved them over, the glare of witchlights obscuring their identity, and the boys jogged towards the center. Sansa had come ahead, meeting up with Asha, Arya, and Margaery. Theon raised an eyebrow at Sansa when he saw the Tyrell girl, and Sansa promptly turned red. Bran was leaning against his wheelchair from where he was situated on the ground, idly turning his wand over and over in his hands. 

Theon sat down next to the girls, high-fiving Margaery when she lifted her hand. “Hey, Theon.” Said Arya. She had her head on Asha’s outstretched legs, her brown hair a mess about her face.. Asha stuck out her tongue at him and he rolled his eyes fondly, smiling to himself. Sansa looked around the meadow, peering into the trees at the very edge of the field. 

“Where’s Robb?” Theon shrugged. “Getting as far as possible away from me, what else is new?” Sansa studied him with a knowing look, and her eyes held the vague shape of a secret. 

“He’s right there.” Bran said, never looking up from the wand in his hands. “Don’t you people use your eyes?” And sure enough - warm light gilded red hair, as a figure approached them. The graceful silhouette, however, was ruined when he flopped down on the blanket next to Jon, huffing breaths like he had run all the way here from the castle. Of course, he was avoiding Theon’s gaze.

“We have a problem.” Arya looked at him incredulously.

“No  _ shit _ we have a problem, Robb! Ramsay Bolton was just going to let me get smashed to bits by a bludger! That’s the problem!” Robb raised his hand in front of his face. “If you’d give me a  _ moment _ , I could tell you that it’s  _ about  _ that! When I was in the corridors trying to leave the castle, Bolton saw me!” Theon felt Asha grip his shoulder.

“Robb, what are you saying? Did he follow you?” Robb shook his head. “I don’t think so. As far as I can tell, all he knows is that I was trying to sneak out. But it can’t be good, can it?” Margaery, who had been quiet thus far, spoke up.

“Not to be a buzzkill, but doesn’t this mean we have to put a pause on operation ‘Make That Little Fuckweasel Pay?’” Everything was silent for a moment, but then Bran clapped his hands.    
“We should summon the wolves and talk then.” Sansa seemed to consider this for a moment, then she stood up and reached out to Robb. 

“Come on. He’s right.” Robb grumbled and took her hand, letting Sansa help him up. The Starks all rose (except for Bran) and drew their wands. Even after seeing them do this for years, Theon never lost that giddiness in the bottom of his stomach. He came from an old wizarding family, had fostered with another, but this felt like pure fantasy. Every time.

After the direwolves had slid out from between the trees and greeted their counterparts, everyone condensed in a pile. Theon ended up sandwiched in between Margaery and Robb, who was looking less than pleased.

Greywind didn’t seem to host such reservations, however, stretched out over their laps. He was so big that his head hung off of Theon’s thigh and his tail brushed the ground on the other side of Robb. Even though in the beginning, Theon had been a little jealous of the Starks and their familiars, but Greywind especially had taken a liking to him, like Nymeria and Asha. He noticed now that Lady was cozying up to Margaery as well. 

“I say we keep planning and when the time is right, we fuck him up. I don’t want to ruin everything because we couldn’t be a little patient.” Said Arya first. Bran nodded his head. “Arry, if anyone should make the call it’s you, but are you seriously saying you don’t want to punt his scrawny ass into the lake?” Asha said in rebuttal. Arya shrugged. “Of course I do, but I won’t risk losing you all and the wolves to get revenge.” Margaery was nodding in agreement, but Sansa and Robb looked less sure. “I don’t know, Arya. What if while we’re waiting he does something even worse?” Robb asked. “I don’t want you to get hurt!” They exclaimed at the same time. 

“I say we let Arya decide. He did it to her, after all.” Theon declared. Arya seemed to consider this, and then sat back. “We wait, and make a plan, and then we hurt him. Fucker’s on my list. He’s not going anywhere.” They respected her decision, but Theon could tell they were less than pleased.

Sansa cleared her throat, and gave Theon a look. “Well if that’s… settled. Theon, can I talk with you for a moment?” He stood up to follow her, and saw Asha move to sit in his place next to Robb. Sansa grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the clearing, to the fringes of where the forest gave way into the meadow.

“Sansa what’s-” 

She cut him off, “Asha is going to bring Robb to you. He doesn’t know that you’re here, and he might try and run away. Don’t let him. He’ll never talk to you otherwise. Promise me you two will  _ talk _ .” Theon could only stare. “You are  _ useless _ . Thank me later.” She turned and sprinted away. 

Theon could hear talking through the dense woods now, Asha and Robb. “Right… here!” And Robb made a sound like he’d been pushed, stumbled into sight, and Theon saw the moment Robb could see his face. The color drained from him, and he started backing up, but tripped on a root and fell down. Theon started and went over to him, extending a hand which Robb ignored.

“Robb, this was not me. It was your sister. And… well, and mine, I guess.” Robb was shaking his head. “Theon, I… I can’t do this right now.” The sound of his voice was like static, it broke on his name. He scrambled to his feet and began to hurry back to the clearing. Theon was desperate. He knew that Sansa was right, Robb wouldn’t fall for something like this again.

Asha had made herself scarce, it was just them now. 

“ _ Why do you hate me? _ ” 

Robb stopped in his tracks, but didn’t turn to face him. “ _ Hate you? _ I could never hate you, Theon.” 

Theon had never sounded more desperate than he did in this moment, calling out to him. “Why won’t you talk to me, or eat with me, or fucking look at me? We’ve been best friends ever since we were Rickon’s age, and now you can’t stand the  _ sight _ of me! What happened? Did I do something?”

Robb still wouldn’t turn his eyes to him, but he wasn’t running away, either. “Theon... It’s not-”

“It’s not  _ what _ ? Fucking WHAT? Robb, I don’t know what I  _ did _ .” He could hear the thick edge of tears in his voice, but he hadn’t noticed they had begun to fall until it was all he could feel, watery and warm.

“Theon, you didn’t do anything! It was the… the fire. What I saw.” Theon shook his head and ground out. “ _ Well then what did you see? _ ”

Robb finally looked at him, the moonlight touching his cheekbone, a bit of eyelid, lovely and curving, and Theon hated that he noticed it, but  _ wanted _ so badly, and now Robb was talking, and maybe he was crying too, and his head was dipped down so that Theon couldn’t see the way his words came out of his mouth.

“I saw you. And… and me. And we…” He trailed off, seemingly unable to finish. “And we  _ what, _ Robb? Don’t do this to me.” 

Robb sunk to the ground, knees in the soft earth, shoulders stooped and low, and Theon thought rather hysterically that he looked like he was in prayer. 

“ _ We were _ together, _ Theon _ . I don’t… I don’t know  _ why _ and I.. I don’t know what to do.” Theon noticed, almost detachedly, that his hands were shaking as he slid down onto the ground next to Robb.

The numbness snapped inside of him and suddenly he was hopelessly angry and afraid and hopeful all at the same time and it was the most unbearable thing he had ever experienced and he felt like he was  _ drowning. _

“Oh  _ shit _ . Goddamit  _ FUCK _ !” This couldn’t be happening.

They were both definitely crying now, and Theon couldn’t even bring himself to be embarrassed. Robb shook his head, eyes seeking out the moon through the canopy of red leaves. “I can’t lie to myself anymore, Theon. I can’t do it. If you… just tell me if you hate me.” 

“I _ don’t _ . Robb, how could I ever… I’m scared  _ shitless  _ and I’m confused but I don’t hate you.” Robb was seeing him now, even though his eyes were still tipped towards the sky. “Robb, you have to understand… the Iron Islands are… less than accepting. The closest they get to acknowledging, not to mention  _ accepting  _ gay people is the priests recusitating holy men. I… I didn’t even know it was a  _ thing  _ until I came to the North.” Robb looked at him with wide eyes.

“Theon, I-” Theon continued, knowing that if he stopped now he would never be able to choke the words he needed out. “Asha was never like that. Hells, she’s even had a few girlfriends, but… growing up away from your home and your people and your culture, people might think it distances you from it. But it just made me want to be like them even more. So I kept… pretending.

I knew that if I was ever going to go home someday, I needed to lie. And so I practiced until I was so good at it I had almost convinced myself that I was normal and I didn’t need to lie anymore. But I always knew. I couldn’t stop looking at you, or convince myself that I _ wasn’t  _ looking at you. So… just please, don’t fuck with me or.. I don’t know. I don’t know if I could do it.”

Instead of responding, Robb lunged forwards and smashed their mouths together. For a second, Theon was too shocked to do anything but sit. When he came back to his senses, he gripped Robbs’ shoulder with his right hand and reached up for his cheek with the other, pulling him closer.

When he opened his mouth and felt a slip of tongue against his own, he moved the hand on Robbs’ shoulder to his hair. They were operating on the same frequency and it was everything Theon needed and he didn’t have to think about what he would do, and he just  _ did _ it and it was  _ okay. _

He was still crying, but when Robbs’ finger trailed up to his eye and gently brushed away the tears he found there, he knew that this was the truth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im bad at kissing ok im a lesbian i dont know how men work


End file.
